


The Baking Tray

by peyj_turner



Category: Cookie Clicker, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Cookie Clicker crossover, Gen, Welcome to Night Vale crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 19:59:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peyj_turner/pseuds/peyj_turner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil encounters a cookie-wielding granny in his studio. Chaos ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Baking Tray

The recording equipment clicked and beeped to life, as Cecil took his seat and adjusted his headphones. He turned on his equipment, and leaned into the microphone.

"The night is burning, burning, burning. An unseen heat washes against your skin. Your pores widen to eke out sweat in vain, but soon you will be ready for the feast …welcome to Night Vale."

The familiar musical sting goes ripples through the broadcast. Cecil counts silently in his head, and begins to speak again.

"Listeners, the town went through one of its hottest summers this afternoon, as reported by the Night Vale Meteorological Society. Well, not so much reported as silently pleaded through desperate eyes and moans of dehydration. In fact, it was so hot today that there have been several sightings of the hooded figures in the Dog Park silently gathering underneath trees, taking up less space than physically possible. Night Vale has had its share of heat waves in the past, such as the heat wave of 1989 when Mayor Pa—"

Cecil was cut short by a loud popping sound in front of him. He hears one of the interns scream in fright.

"Sorry for the interruption, listeners, but it seems that there's some commotion happening in the station. An elderly woman dressed in corduroy and fuzzy, blue bunny slippers seemed to have materialized into existence in the studio adjacent. She appears to have a plate of…cookies? Yes! Chocolate chip cookies, in fact, and she seems to be offering them to one of the interns operating the audio console. Intern Jessica is hesitant at first but…wait. Something's amiss here. Her eyes just glazed over and she seems to be taking bite from one of the offered cookies. And another. And another. And—oh God! She's guzzling them down! She's taking handfuls of cookies and just shoving them down her throat! The cookies seem to be constantly replenishing themselves, and seem to be pour out of the plate like a fountain spring! The grandmother's eyes seem to have started caving in and…swirling lights seem to emit from her empty sockets! Listeners, I'm going to switch you into a pre-recorded segment as I try to rescue Intern Jessica from herself! Let me jus—*click*

* * *

The segment sparks to life. It's grainy, as if recorded decades ago. After a few clicks and whirrs, a voice, prim, polite and proper, pops into existence.

"We're here today with one of Night Vale's oldest residents, Steve Holmes, discussing one of his fondest memories as child. We join him now as he recalls one of Night Vale's first amusement parks in the 1900's."

Another voice, wizened with age and whiskey, continues the segment.

"There was a ride where you went on a little kid scale train to a mine. The cheese mine was filled with happy little mice who sang a song about mining for cheese. For some reason, the only thing I can remember from the ride—for over twenty years—is that the opening line of the refrain mocking cookie mines because they weren't as good as cheese mines. After all, why mine for cookies when you could mine for cheese?"

A deep breath, a sigh.

"Ever since then, I always wondered about the cookie mine. We know from the ride what a cheese mine looks like. What about the cookie mines? Are they also operated by crews of mice? Why are cheese mines better? Is cheese more profitable? Do the cheese miners get paid better? Was it some sort of unionized rivalry between cheese miners and cookie miners? Or is this a song meant to jab at a more profitable industry? We all know that if you give a mouse a cookie, it'll probably ask for a glass of milk to go with it. Wouldn't it be logical to assume the dairy business wants to keep cheese mines out of the picture, while also dumping money into cookie mines to stimulate the milk industry? Do they have shady price-fixing deals to keep a firm grip on the market? Do they run insider trading on cheese and cookie futures? Is all-natural mined cheese so unprofitable that the miners are overworked and underpaid in order for the company to scrape by on marginal profits? Is this jab at cookie mining one of their last vestiges of hope as they toil away in the pits for products that simply can't compete in the cheese marketplace?"

Another breath, and another sigh.

"So that's about when I started my cookie company Alchemy Cookies, building the factory right here in Night Vale and shipping everywhere around the country. It's been very profita—*click*

* * *

Jagged breathing entered the microphone, with low rumbling in the background.   
  
"Listeners. I think…Night Vale is currently under attack by some eldritch abomination from a forgotten realm made entirely out of…cookies."  
  
A slight retching noise, and Cecil struggled back into position.  
  
"Notices from as high as the vague yet menacing government agency have been circulated around Night Vale, warning everyone about the rouge elderly women with plates of ever-lasting cookies. Intern Jessica has been restrained in the bathroom and the grandmother in the studio has been...'handled' by the secret police. It seems that these old ladies have the same weaknesses as their human counterparts. It is vital that you report any sightings of cookie-wielding elderly women to the secret police immediately and to keep away from their gaze as much as possible. Our currently incapacitated Intern Jessica has been in a state of hysterics since the attack, moaning the phrases 'The Cookies! The Cookies!' and 'Her eyes are the Portal to the Chewy Paradise!' between bouts of vomiting cookie dough and chocolate chips."  
  
Cecil paused to regain his composure, steadying his shaking long enough to wipe golden brown crumbs off his shirt.  
  
"We'll try our best to keep you updated listeners, but, for now…goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight."

END

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally "published" on my tumblr, the idea of which was created under the influence of the 'Cookie Clicker' game. The game already had elements which naturally lent itself to the WTNV universe, so it just happened, I guess. Thanks to S. Watson for the cheese mine segments, and user imaginarycomics for introducing me to the Cookie Clicker game.
> 
> Goddamnit, why do I do this?


End file.
